


Corporate Corrupt Me

by Tyanime0



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Bottom Draco, Businessman Harry, Con Artists, Conman Draco, Deception, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Manipulation, Emotionally Repressed, Enemies to Lovers, Falling In Love, Harry Needs a Hug, Humor, Jealous Harry, Light BDSM, Love/Hate, M/M, Mentions of child neglect, Obsessive Harry, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rich Harry, Sassy Draco, Self-Hatred, Top Harry, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-19 15:43:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5972830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyanime0/pseuds/Tyanime0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Generational con-artist mastermind Draco Malfoy, had planned this hit for months now, seduce a fresh faced, scarily impersonal Mr.Harry Potter, sole surviving heir and CEO of Potter-Auror Enterprises. It was supposed to be an easy job, that was, until the bleeding idiot with serious attachment disorder issues become illogically infatuated with him, and actually will not leave him the hell alone, and the worst part is, Draco finds that he doesn’t seem to mind that much after a few bottles of Ace of Spades</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At 'First' Sight

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 

Harry James Potter at young age of twenty-five, have had already have excelled academically, graduating with a Phd in Business Management, one of the top honor students in his class , it was an impeccable coincidence that his parents had unfortunately both died in a car crash accident, whilst he was at the still developing age of eleven.

The vehicle found at the scene of the crime, was apparently driven by some crazed lunatic, one TomMarvolo Riddle _,_  of whom's body was never found at the scene of the crime. However, despite the grave circumstances, Harry, intellectually speaking, was more than ready to accept the position of continuing his father’s legacy.

Though, it really was a position that was rightfully his from the time of his birth, he didn’t really have to put much of an effort, the company had been under the supervision of his father’s trusted adviser Kingsley Shacklebolt, who just recently given himself his quoted _'well deserving and long overdue'_ retirement.

Mr.Shacklebolt had been the acting as the Chief Executive Officer of the world's dominant and leading **Security System Company** , merely keeping the seat warm over the years for the true heir to the company, until the boy was of age and aptitude to receive the company and pace it under the rightful owner's command.

Therefore, from the tender age of eleven, Harry found his destiny already set in stone. An inevitable future, a straight lined path leading to one direction, one which would overlap any possible alternative choice of becoming a **_strong fireman_** or a **_great astronaut,_** or whatever it was that kids say now a days. It had been drilled into the young Potter child's head, that he didn't have the luxury of childish hopes for his future. So with a defeated sigh that would last a lifetime he buried his head into his studies, learning extremely complex business strategies that no normal fifteen year old kid would even come across until college.

As a young boy who suddenly found himself alone in this big scary world , he started to work hard to impress the only adults in his life that would pay him any attention.  So therefore, he acquired grades more than high enough to attend the top schools in England and did all plus more of the degrees that was mandatory to the  _'his_ ' main priority of an already set future.

_His entire youth, scripted._

On his later years , he actually started trying to escape the realism of his future soon after he realized that horrid fact , however, one would find the _'tedious whinings'_ of a fifteen year old boy trying to escape his future responsibilities, pointless under the hawk-eyes of the strictest and cut throat adults of the business world. Most of these adults very close past business 'partners' of James Potter , all of them wanting to maintain a linked reason to still maintain business relations with Potter-Auror Enterprise. All of them wanting to become the favorite surrogated 'aunt' or 'uncle' , if only for the future bragging rights.

_No one ever thought about asking what Harry wanted._

That is why , by the age of eighteen and many professionally covered failed attempts at ending his probable future of misery, Harry had developed the mental capacity to allow himself to become detached from his present surroundings, apathetically living his life as though through a mirrored view of someone's else's life. The **Golden Boy** that his caretakers , tutors , professors and society's over-expectations in general had shaped and molded him to become.

_A perfectly crafted puppet, dangling, unresistant on too thin string._

So from an early age he went through life being not Harry, the confused , terrified , suddenly parent-less little boy, but instead James Potter’s prodigy son, future Multi-Millionaire!. ' The _Boy Who_ _Lived_ to take over his father's heritage.' Which was actually on the cover on Forbes magazine by the way. It headlined.

**''Most likely destined for great things in life! To become one of the top dogs leading the business market.''**

Unfortunately , it left out the part where he was also destined for an utterly mind-numbing and meaningless life, for everything that a CEO is supposed to act according to the situation could be easily found in his many large textbooks that he could now recite , page to page , front to back. 

With a common pained sigh, Harry opening his agitated , ever presently tired , green eyes, even a good night's sleep had been feeling like a automated chore.

Going to pretty soon have to add insomnia to the list of repressed ' _issues'_ that he had developed over the years now.

He looked around his luxurious furnished, top of the line, penthouse, one of many around the world of course .

Not entirely uncommon, there was a busty woman besides him, naked, long thin legs stretched out across his similarly naked torso , head buried into his chest as long curly brunette hair started getting all annoyingly tangled up in his face, whatever new cheap perfume she wore last night that did more harm than good to his groin area the night before, an amateur ploy of seduction that she probably got from some celebrity gossip magazine. To Harry's distress it now permeated throughout the room harshly, causing him to crunch up his noise in distaste.

‘ _Sigh, another night of this and I’ll get nasal ingestion, need to break up with this one before I might have to fumigate my entire apartment...again’_

Thing is, in his teen years, Harry had adapted this strange appeal to the ‘ _scents’_ of people around him, they had both unattracted him from and brought him closer to the people around him. For example Kingsley always had an earthy , rosemary like scent to him that always made harry feel at home, very similar to what he could remember from his father's scent in a sense, and his longtime friend Ron, had a subtle peppermint candy and hot cocoa smell to him that always put the usual no-nonsense harry at ease when talking to him.

_Yeah, having your parents die at a young age and having the pressure of taking over an entire multinational company, along with the livelihood of a hundred plus employees, placed on your tiny preteen shoulders does weird things to a boy’s psychy, okay?_

Anyways back the present situation. _Oh yeah , breaking things off with this months' daddy’s girl spoiled broad._

* * *

 

‘ **Slap!’**

A resounding slap could be heard throughout the room, a woman with ruffled up, unbuttoned clothing glaring heatedly in front of a very much still, stoic man, shaking with fury.

‘ _How could you!?_ You knew that it's my birthday next week! You also knew that I had my eyes on that new **pink Mercedes Benz**! You should be so lucky as to have someone like me spare one _glance_ at you! C’mon lets _face_ it, without all your money you would be _nothing_ but a sad and pathetically emotionless man and **hot** woman like us wouldn’t even bother with you!’ And at the end of her rant she stomped out of the apartment, loudly slamming the door on her way out.

Harry sat down on his black plush couch and rubbing his temples, action trying to will the upcoming headache from the bang of the door away, oh well , he had been through worse than a little door slamming, with woman number four, he narrowly missed a pelted Italian imported glass vase aimed at his head , though he _probably_ shouldn’t have broken up with that one whilst she was midway in going down on him on the kitchen counter. Now, that one should have been thought through.

With another sigh , Harry reclined in his seat closed his eyes just for a short while. His cheeks still stung a bit from the slap bestowed upon on, but he closed his eyes and relished it, the slight stinging  _pain_ , anything except from the empty hollow where his thinks that his heart was supposed to be.

 _Maybe_ she was right, without this given powerful **tittle, money, power** , who would he even be.

_Maybe he hoped that the string would have broken off then._

_Maybe_ he would just be a sad man with a strange scent fetish, a man who actually sort of, maybe kind of, liked being…smacked in the face?

He allowed a small ironic smirk to grace upon his face, yeah, sure, maybe not much women would go for him, but who's to say that his preference was in the female gender in the first place though.

  _Maybe_ he quite preferred his women , men.

* * *

 

 

**1 week later**

 

This was a very strange day for Harry, something seemed just a bit off, but he couldn’t quite out a finger on it. He resigned to just shrug off the feeling to the back of his head. Maybe a bad alignment in his solar planet or some , right now he had other problems to deal with.

Presently, Harry found in a situation where his black Maybach Exelero had strangely broken down this afternoon, well not exactly broken down, but the deflation of his tires made him assume that he must have accidentally run over a sharp, well, _something_ on the way to work that morning.

So now he stood outside of his building in preparation to hail a taxi, almost immediately one had appeared in front of him, sighing in relief he reached over to open the car door. However as he was getting inside , there was a loud smack and a small  **'oof!** ' sound behind his back.

Apparently what had happen was that, another man from behind accidentally bumped into him in an attempt to also into the same upcoming taxi. He turned behind and regarded the man, but found himself momentarily speechless.

Harry was utterly surprised by the sudden appearance of what could possibly be an angel of some sort in front of him . The man had windswept , shoulder length blonde hair which glistened in the sun, soft silver blue eyes was framed by think blonde eyelashes, a pointed sculpted like chin and cheek bones and the softest pinkest lips that he had ever had the pleasure of seeing in his life.

He almost felt his heart skip a beat.

 _Oh!_ and that sweet smell, _oh gosh , oh god....damn ,.._ there was an alluring scent radiating from the man in front of him , a _natural_  bold aphrodisiac to Harry’s entire body. This man had effortlessness now stimulated all of Harry's senses. The man in question then turned to Harry with a white blinding smile, which immediately morphed into an apologetic look. It seemed that he realized his error and thus immediately began apologizing,

‘Oh, god..I’m so sorry, …’ he began, now looking cutely jumpy and disheveled , now offering Harry a shy smile from underneath his blond locks of hair , tucking a long strand behind his ears, Harry followed the movement of his hands with his eyes, finding himself feeling embarrassingly mesmerized by the simple action, if only for a moment.

He was so distracted that he didn’t even realized that the boy was nervously rambling on, only broken by the beep of the horn of the impatient taxi driver. Spurring him into an action fast, least before the taxi driver decides to drive of make him look like a bigger fool that he was probably already doing himself.

He quickly held a hand up to stop the mans quiet mumbling to himself of 'well, you _**were**_ here first…’, It was clear that the newcomer wanted to take the taxi from Harry, however didn’t want to insist on it that way.

Which Harry found incredibly endearing for a stranger to be putting that much consideration into his feelings .

He put on what he hoped was his most charming smile , not quite not why exactly he actually  _wanted_ to impress this compete stranger and said in a practiced kind voice , that he also hoped didn't sound as calculated and 'robotic' as per usual.

‘ N-No! That’s quite alright , um- you could take this one... I-I’ll just grab a next one’ Even as going as far as to stepping aside and even pulling the door wider open, and guiding the nervous blonde boy inside. A chivalry that he didn’t even know that he was capable of until now.

The boy sent a dazzling pleased smile his way and harry felt his entire earth still for a second ‘Are you , are you sure? ’ the man asked inquisitively , poking his head of the closed door’s window cutely , twitching his nose like a little kitten .

‘Oh y-y-yes I’m perfectly sure! N-No problem at all , my pleasure really!’ Harry stammered off , quickly hitting the back glass of the taxi car as a single for the driver to go on, least before he could make an even bigger idiot of himself . As the vehicle drove off he prepared himself to hail another taxi , shaking his head softly, trying to get the blonde man that he would most likely never have a chance to meet again in his life, out of his head, trying to forget that _intoxicating spell bounding_  smell. Any previous thought to further investigate the damage to his vehicle's tires immediately forgotten.

* * *

 

In the taxi car, the previously _'anxious_ ' man had now reclined comfortably back into his seat,  a calm and controlled air about him now as he stared blankly at the passing scenery , elbows resting on the car door's side.

A professionally made job application placed on the seat next too him. After twenty minutes or so, far enough away from the scene of today's 'coincidental' encounter, he allowed a devious smirk to grace his _‘angelic boyish features_ ’ , he previous ' _oh so vulnerable_ ' features fading into the **sharp** regal look of a cunning twenty-five year old man , who had experienced certain ' _things_ ', far beyond his years.

He pulled a comb out of his jacket pocket and with a small headband he tightly pulled back his purposely rustled up hair, neatly putting it into a neat low ponytail. Pansy did a wonderful job with the extensions this time.

He straightened his suit's collar , fished a tie out of his document folder and started smoothing out the rough edges of his _'outfit_ ', an effort in looking a lot more together as opposed to thirty minutes ago. In this _profession_ , one would find that minor details can go a very long way.

Not quite helping himself , he let out a small sound of pure excitement. He sent a firm, short affirmative nod to the ‘ _taxi-driver’_ , who had been eyeing him curiously though the rare view mirror. Meaning.

**‘So, is this a go?’**

**‘Yes. Yes it is.’**

A silent way communication, developed over years of practice.

Practice until eye movements , along with slight head or hand gestures could carry out an entire hit.

He then tapped Gregory Goyle's shoulder to signal his attention and passed over the GPS coordinates, to his next destination.

An order silently followed without need of any words.

He let out a content sigh as he returned his attention back to the scenery, allowing a small Cheshire grin to pass his features, just for a second.

The game was always far more _exhilarating_ at the beginning.

 

_Phase one, gain their attention. Success._


	2. First Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets 'Julius'

**Chapter 2**

 

**That next weekend**

* * *

 

With the strange incident of last week long overlooked to the back of Harry’s thoughts, he returned to his typical routine for the week.

Get up, _think that maybe he should get a haircut or something_ , eat buttered toast, cup of coffee, get dressed, get to work, read over some department reports, send some back to lower management for reviewing, stamp an approval ink insignia on the rest, cup of coffee, listen to presentations, get home, _think that maybe he should get a pet or something_ , eat take out dinner, browse the internet, get sleep.

_And repeat._

 

Except that Friday had finally come, and this one regular procedure in his life that Harry could definitely get behind.

His weekly visits to one of his most favourite and conveniently nearest bar spots near his company building, ’ **The Phoenix’** , alongside with his best mate, they would be meeting their other colleagues at the bar.

Currently, he was travelling inside of a polished red convertible sports car driven by his long-time friend Ronald Weasley. Judging by their ‘ _bromantic_ ’ history together, Ron was what Harry supposed that people who knew more about normal social relationships than him, would call, a _‘best-friend_ ’.

They actually met whilst Kinsgley was still in charge of the company and Harry was still just the perfect pin up poster-boy appearance for the future of the enterprise. At that time, he had(was forced) to, attend various joint business functions and annual holiday parties.

He was always being dragged left, right and especially center by the other adults that all of a sudden remembered who the heck he was and wanted to be seem _close_ to him.

Though, he _usually_ did never hear from them again after the parties, not a phone call, not even a text, _nothing_ , until the next event where they would again appear in front of him with big hypocritical smiles plastered on their faces. Harry then learnt to mimic that same fabricated friendly atmosphere, as he too also acted _‘oh so delighted’_ to see them again as well.

The Weasley’s were not as powerful market domination wise as the Potters, but they certainly made up for it with their highly influential presence in the market. It was due to the appreciation that there were **a lot** of members in that family.

**A lot**. Most of them establishing big enough reputable names for themselves in the global market. Which brother owned a large chain of wholesale/retail stores around Europe, which pair of uncles together owned one of the world largest pharmaceutical companies, which sisters owned a growing chain of fast food franchises. 

Therefore, as a tight, close knit family-first orientated business strategy, the pooled combined wealth of everyone did for sure place the Weasley’s as easily one of the top successful families presently in England.

Anyways it was at a particular business function that he had actually met Ron Weasley.

A man a bit similar to him, born under the influence of a wealthy family, he had effortlessly landed himself a cushy high paid job as the managing director at one of his father’s larger telemarketing companies.

Ron along his younger sister Ginny, both being the youngest, did kind of have the predisposition to also be the more, so to say, **_spoilt_ ** of the family.

That is why on first meeting, Ron instantly began boasting about his latest extravagant purchases, cars, yachts, a vacation home in Malibu **and** on the coast of St.Barths and _blahblahblah_ , which was actually a thought that did cross Harry’s mind as Ron droned on and _on_ and _**on**_.

Unfortunately, or rather not, his uninterest in the conversation must have at the time shown through on his usually controlled features as Ron actually stopped mid-sentence and honest to god started cursing out Harry for **his** _‘stuck-up-stick-in-arse’_ reaction to his stories and started loudly bewailing Harry for making him quote-

_‘Waste my bloody damn vocal cords on your arse! Listen here guy if aren’t interested just fucking say so mate! Fucking geez mate!’_

With a sincere apology from Senior Weasley and a low grumbled out, _‘totally sincere’_ apology from Ron, who hilariously enough, actually had absolutely  **no clue** who this famous 'Harry Potter bloke, that everyone keeps talking about' looked like.

Apparently Ron simply had a tendency to pick out random ‘ _bored and lonely’_ looking blokes in the crowd and just start chatting to them for hours about how loaded he was. Until they found an excuse to quickly leave from either their head getting too full from all never-ending chatter or wanting to shut the ginger boy up, _with a plastic bag, tightly covering his face._

But nonetheless, they had become close friends ever since.

Ron, he was not like the others, he actually didn’t care much to impress Harry at all, bragging only for his own self-gratification , he loved hearing the sound of his own voice and was not about to lie about that. It also helped that he didn’t have any other visible agenda besides needing someone who would provide a listening ear as he complained about his older brothers getting preferential treatment, because _they_ got to go to Hawaii on vacation whilst he had to stay behind to actually do his ‘job’ because he was ‘slacking off’.

And...maybe also to rub his back when he ‘ _was definitely **not** crying_ ~~’~~ when he got totally rejected by **Mrs.** Stacey from Marketing, the absolutely love of Ron's life who suddenly turned into a _‘ blasted fat cow who had no idea what she's missing, hand me the tissue please, got something in my eye again,*sniff*’_

However, presently he was now rubbing it in his face that after months pining, 31 no’s and rejections and two separate occasional, well aimed kicks to his,  _lower area_ and one halfhearted _maybe_ , later. He had finally wearied down and got together with _The_ Hermione Granger, the manager of the most profitable real estate investment agency in England at the moment. Who had actually later learned to simply love him and his _aggravating_ persistence to death.

It was a brag topic that Harry was by now was very familiar with, it was just about winding down so he started counting down the seconds to the very expected question.

‘But enough about me, so what's going on with you mate, still dating that model chick? What was her name again, Carly?... Cindy?..Sidney?....’ Ron let out an excited yelp as Harry nodded at the last name, probably meaning that he was right the last time.

_But wasn’t it Torianne or something though ?...he kind of thinks. He doesn’t really know himself, haven’t quite bothered with names._

So Harry told him the same old reason, that it didn’t work out, she wasn’t the one, though as they always suspected in the first place, she had only been dating him to get her hands on this new brand of vehicle because her father confiscated her credit cards for the time being. Most likely because she crashed the old one under a DUI.

Now cue Ron getting into another rant about how he’s the luckiest guy in the world for bagging his _‘perfect, already successful, ‘and like, seriously smart as fuck ’_ long-time girlfriend.

Until the vehicle reached their destination.

With an encouraging pat on his back, Ron turned to Harry and said with a warm brother like tone. A Weasley family trait that effortlessly guaranteed customer loyalty from all over the world.

‘But don’t worry mate, someday you will find that someone and you’ll feel like you’re about to go into cardiac arrest or something, and when that happens, just go with the flow okay? Trust me, I know what I’m talking about’ and with a bright self-pleased smile, he hoped out of the car to give the keys to the valet, leaving Harry to his own thought for a while.

Just go with the flow, huh.

_(Inner Harry flashback moment)_

 

_The blonde man turned to Harry with a white blinding smile, which morphed into an apologetic look._

_..._

_‘Are you, are you sure?’ the blond asked, poking his head of the closed door’s window cutely._

_..._

_(_ _End flashback moment)_

So gorgeous.

 

**Tap.Tap.Tap.**

A sound of metal keys tapping on glass snapped Harry out of his reveries to see Ron looking over at him from outside side of the car door with a concerned look on his face, even through the one way tinted windows. The valet was still waiting for him to exit the vehicle so that he may proceed to park it.

He quickly got out of the car and sent Ron a reassuring smile as an indication that he was just fine.

The popular yet still humble bar-restaurant was owned by their mutual friend Neville Longbottom, a laid-back comfortable friend gained from having come more than enough times by now.

In there, they would meet their closer acquaintances Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. Old school mates of Ron’s that later became his by association. Harry always supposed that he needed this kind of social interactions in his life in order to convince himself of having the minimum level of normalcy in his mind.

God knows if it hadn’t been for Ron’s persistent pushing at first, he would undoubtedly be one of those introverted shut-ins, probably jacking of to **‘Men’s Fitness’** and the ‘weirder’ side of porn sites.

 

Upon entering the bar though...

 

Harry felt the wind literally kick out of his lungs, he even blinked his eyes to make sure that this wasn’t some kind of illusion, that he wasn’t just seeing things.

 

Behind the bar, literally ,  right **there** , less than ten feet away, was a man that Harry thought he would have only had the pleasure of meeting once in his lifetime.

There stood Mister Blonde Dream-Boy from last week, he quickly shook his head again, wondering again, if what he was seeing was even real.

Mister.Dream-Boy was stood there in all his glory as if a special stage light paced on him, giving charming smiles to anyone that caught his bright inquisitive blue eyes, some admirers, both male and female, already _not so discreetly_ eyeing him.

Although he did have the impression about him of a fresh new employee, probably fresh out of college, he was also giving off this already contagious positive vibe, laughing joyously, head titled back as he engaged in polite conversation with Neville, whilst using a clean rag to slowly scrub down a tall beer glass.

Harry all of sudden became very nervous, all plans of having a typically content night flying right out the window with this new diversion. He had noticed that Ron was already making his way to where their friends and Neville was, oblivious to Harry’s inner turmoil. He allowed his feet to automatically trail behind Ron’s, internally swallowing his own saliva the entire way.

_He had met and shook hands with ministers and prime ministers alike, but this man for whatever reason already had him feeling anxious._

Upon his late arrival and greetings, the man’s who’s back was currently facing him, turned around to say a quick ‘Good night, sir’ but then swiftly did a double-take back to face him. A startled but delighted, smile spread across his face as if to silently mean **_‘Hey! I know you!’_**

The very positive reaction to his presence automatically allowed Harry to relax and he responded with a pleased smile of his own. Contented enough with simply being recognized.

Neville, never one to be rude to his closer friends, then took it upon himself to introduce his new employee, who had been given the part time job since last week, though had just started actually working morning on Thursday morning. Throughout the introductions, there seemed to be a meaningful look of communication shared between the blond man and Harry.

An expectant look, as if waiting for something.

When it came down for him to be introduced, he immediately stopped Neville from doing so, feeling the sudden need to do it himself

‘And last but not least, this is Har-‘ ‘ **No** \- wait! I mean that’s okay Neville, we meet earlier on during the week’’ he then thrust out his hand towards the blonde man, trying and failing to not appear as excited as he really was in front of his friends, who were eyeing him peculiarly, a bit shocked that for once, he took the initiative to personally introduce himself to someone, much less a mere bartender.

He looked at the man’s face to see if he had done the right thing and judging from the pleased grin on his face, and a twinkle in his eye, it seemed that he had.

‘Potter. Harry Potter’ he introduced himself as the man shook his hand slowly but firmly. Mentally cringing and cursing himself for how terribly cliché that sounded.

_Who was he, James fucking Bond?_

‘Morgan. Julius Morgan’ he replied smoothly without missing a beat, in the same manner jokingly, ‘Julius is my first name by the way, if you didn’t’ get that…’’ he added with a wink.

Slowly letting go of Harry’s hand and returning back to work. Much to Harry’s found disappointment.

Soon after that the atmosphere dissolved into one of more laughs between friends, Julius constantly tipping his glass off with alcohol,

Harry didn’t fancy himself a strong drinker, but he figured that just for tonight, that he would do whatever it would take to keep Julius coming back to his table, as a result he kept diligently knocking back shot after shot. Making an extra point to confidently thump the empty glass down unto the table. And let out a small innocent smile as Julius would fill it up again.

As the night went on and Harry uncharacteristically drowned shot after shot, so too was he getting very tipsy and openly laughing and jokingly along with his friends. Occasionally saving up his ‘best’ attempts at humour lines every time Julius would be within hearing range.

_Then_ , there was this resilient alluring smell radiating from Julius that got caught into his nostrils every time the blonde floated near Harry’s group. It came to a point where it could have been the drinks or the existing intoxicating scent, either way he couldn’t concentration on what he was saying or doing for that matter. He quickly swallowed another shot.

He raised an empty shot glass towards Julius, this time his friends, having been drinking at a slower pace also needing their shots refilled, Julius had to therefore spent a longer while than usual, filling out all of their respective orders.

The alcohol was buzzing up and doing into Harry’s head.

He contemplated, he hated to see the blonde leave all the time but man did he _love_ to watch him _go_. _That delicately arched back and spine, thin waist line, never ending model shaped legs, and **that arse though** , that round firm looking arse and he just smells to fucking good, like seriously though, why do ‘Y_ou smell so fucking good.’

He thought miserably. Or at least he thought he did.

Abruptly, all the conversations that had acted as a background to his inner musings around him halted. Dean, Seamus, Neville and Ron, the later more looking a split second from bursting out into uncontrolled laughter, slowly turned to him in looks of bizarre apprehension.

Julius, directly in front him, had paused midway from pouring him his drink. He was staring at him amusingly.

One eyebrow attentively raised.

_Oh.- Oh no._ Harry then felt his face became red as a tomato as he realized what must have happened.

‘Shit. I must have that out load’ And then redder when he realized that he had said that part out loud as well.

_What was with him today?_

He immediately bowed his head down as if his glass was the most interesting thing on earth at the moment.

Right, now he wanted nothing more the gods of mercy to open up the earth and swallow him whole.

He had just told a complete stranger before an hour ago that he ** _smelt_ ** good.

Then with a highly trained indifferent look on his face he slowly turned his head upwards the person subject matter.

But then immediately lost his level-headed facade, gulping down nervously at the new _dark, needy gaze_ that met his, his found himself completely immobile as Julius slowly leaned in close to him, face inches away from his as he lowered his face down to Harry’s neck to inhale a whisk of Harry’s cologne.

Then pulling back, the blonde with piecing blue silver eyes and a suggestive smirk on his face, whispered in a sensual voice that sent a small shiver down Harry's spine.

‘hmmm....You smell quite nice as well Mister Potter… Sir’

 

_Thump...Thump.Thump_

_.....find someone ....feel like....go into cardiac arrest ...._ Ron’s earlier advice appeared as short disconnected phrases in his head, complimenting Ron’s boisterous laughter at the awkward looking situation, in the background.

Really.

Buddy of the year Ron.

Julius then went back to serving customers as if nothing happened.

Seemingly, unaware of the wealthy businessman internally suffering from a **heart attack** behind him. With a self-distracting cough to dismiss the circumstances, he shook his head to clear his thoughts, turning to face his friends who still staring at him weirdly and quickly drowned him shot.

 

For the rest of the night him and Julius would be sending each other curious looks and small secret smiles.

Harry was already hooked.

 

_Phase two. Establish a connection by any means possible. Success._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was used to still provide a slight insight into Harry's social life. Also it was a bit entertaining writing Rich! Self-entitled!Ron,but I think he really means well as a friend for Harry. Julius for Draco was a randomly picked name btw, wanted one that sounded openly friendly and charming, first name that popped up. Frankly, I don't personally know anymore named Julius. Frankly, I quite wish that I knew someone named Julius.: )

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually balancing of two completely different toned stories at the moment , attempting to to get a feel at both genres, 'Two breaths walking' and this , so romantic comedy vs psychological love drama, though I feel like for now I have more of a knack towards witting the later, what with the direction that I have Harry's developing 'personality' planned out to go in..  
> As such, please inform me if there are any missing story tags as this story goes on. Also , comments are very much appreciated. ;)


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